Too Many Faces and Not Enough Mirrors
by Gilded Sin
Summary: Killjoys Gilded Sin and Tainted Edge are just trying to survive the apocalypse, one day at at time. But when a chance encounter thrusts them into a whole new scene, will they discover why the world really ended? Dustverse/Killjoy AU, Fabulous Killjoys included. Rated T for swearing/violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Gilded Sin POV_

Draculoids had been scoping out the rubble for about an hour now. They had no idea that anyone was hiding in the ruins. The Better Living demolition crew had come through the day before, and I had made camp as the dust settled. Lesson #1: In the zones, always move to where no one expects. Speaking of which…

"Move in," called a Drac, "Nothing _living_ is here."

A dry chuckle came from the unit of cleanup Dracs and I grinned as the first one approached my hiding place. I stood behind a crumbling, graffitied wall, my trigger finger as ready as ever.

I saw the mask stop briefly, right past the wall's end, and took my shot.

A blue ray of light shot out of my gun and sliced through the calves of the Draculoid.

He cursed and he fell onto the stumps of his legs, and then onto the hard, cold cement with a crack of his skull.

I crawled out from the shelter to face the fire of the other Dracs. They began to funnel through the remains of a doorway. I shot each one down as they made it through the opening. Eight went down, and three were left.

One leapt through busted window and began firing at me. I dodged the red raygun fire and returned the favor. Two still left.

Another had tried to sneak up behind me, but gravel crunched beneath his boot as he made his final steps. I whirled around and shot him between the eyes. One left.

Silence. I scanned the wreckage for any sign of the last Drac. Seeing none, I clambered to the top of a pile of rubble. There, the remaining Drac was running to a large corporate-looking building around the corner. I reached into my belt and pulled out an extension to my gun. I checked the focus, and took aim at the fading white speck. I pulled the trigger, and the Drac fell before he could make it back to the safety of the office.

I detached the gun's sight and extension, only to see far away gunfire near the building's walkway entrance. A rainbow of colors flew from an oncoming clump of equally brightly colored people. They were running head-on into Drac fire, taking down each one like an unstoppable machine; these guys seemed dead serious. Soon, all the Dracs were toast and the group disappeared into the building.

"Sin. Hey, Sin! Yoohoo!"

Startled, I fumbled with my gun and dropped it. Turning around slowly, I saw Tainted Edge waving his arms at me from a couple feet away.

"What ever happened to saving me a few? You never gave me the signal."

"Edge," I muttered, face now in my hands, "You almost shot me the last time we ambushed together. They were all in one big group, so I thought—"

"You thought, you thought," he whined back, "Ever think of living in the moment? They are all out to kill us, you know."

"Oh trust me," I sighed, "I know." I stared at the open glass doors of the office building for a few seconds, as if something amazing would pop out. Nothing did.

"But," I countered, "That's why we go after those blue Units. Like the one you used to save me with."

"How could I forget?" whined Edge. "You've been nothing but a pain in the neck since!"

"Au contraire, my friend." I picked up my raygun and glanced back to face him. When he looked up, I slowly turned my raygun over in my hands. "How could you have gotten back into Battery City without my help? What you call reckless, I call necessary. What you call crazy, I call…plausible." A slight breeze ruffled my brown and purple hair. "I guess sometimes you forget what we're fighting for."

"Not with you always reminding me." He glanced up to see my hurt expression at this.

"Sorry," he hissed, "it's just you _are_ a little headstrong sometimes."

"But hey!" Edge whirled around and clapped his hands enthusiastically. "We gotta search for more Units; that's why we let them try to kill us!"

We both began turning over each of the Dracs, rifling through their pockets, stashing their rayguns in our belts, and stealing anything of value. Lesson #2: in the Zones, you make do with what comes your way.

"Sweet!" called out Edge, "there's like seven Poptarts with this guy! I haven't seen any since the Fires!" He waved around the shiny wrappers and did a little victory dance. "We're not going hungry tonight!"

I laughed at his antics. What else can you do? I mean, it's a great sight to see a half-starved Killjoy with a genuine grin on his face. We don't get to see many of those anymore.

Tainted Edge certainly looked different than the Dracs. While they dirtied their starched white suits in the sands drifting in the rubble, Edge looked like he lived in the grit. His blonde hair stuck out at odd angles from him cutting it himself, and he had a mix of black and neon streaks all through the mess. Today, a bandana was pulled over most of the rat's nest, but you could tell by his bright bumblebee striped shirt and bright blue skinny jeans that he was not one of the drab, drugged up BL/ind suckers. His standard issue gray jacket fluttered a bit as he continued to dance around and find more food in Dracs' pockets. Not much of a disguise, but it was better than nothing.

I turned to where I had shot down the running Drac. The white-suited figure lay unmoving in the swirling street-dust. As I approached, I saw the edges of its mask fluttering in the eerie breeze. I was tempted to reach over and lift up the latex, just to glance at its face…

But I knew I shouldn't, because that's just not right. Although, we were rifling through their belongings and stealing most of them, plus all the rayguns we could carry.

I started to go through the Draculoid's pockets, the large ones first. This was usually where they kept all the stuff they confiscated from citizens.

This Drac's pockets had several old CDs inside: Muse's _Black Holes and Revelations_, All Time Low's _Dirty Work_, and the Transformers 2 soundtrack. These were all really good CDs, and ones I had once owned. Long ago…

I pulled my backpack off of my back and stuffed the cased discs in with the jumbled mess. I scooped up the Drac's raygun and stuffed it into my sash with several others. I was about to consider him clean when I noticed a piece of paper sticking out of one of his inner hidden pockets.

It was obviously a print-off from BL/ind's databases, judging by the smiling watermark on the paper. The picture itself was blurry and pixilated, and the two adults in the picture had faces slightly cut off. The man and woman were both wearing bird masks, as if for something I had once called Halloween. Meanwhile, the woman held a toddler in her arms who was wearing a hotdog costume. I chuckled a bit, thinking of the last Halloween I had had with my friends.

"Hey, you ready to burn 'em yet?" Edge brought me back to reality. He'd pulled an old mattress from the rubble and had stacked all the Drac bodies on top. "Bring that guy over!"

"Sure thing!" I swung the corpse over my shoulder and jogged to the mattress where Edge was already breaking open some salvaged lighters, spreading their fluid.

I threw my Drac onto a far edge of the mattress, not bothering to stack him with the rest. None of the others Draculoids had pictures in their pockets, and especially not heartfelt ones. And no Dracs _ever_ ran from a fight, except for this one. Was he different?

"Whoa nice, you got a cyborg." I glanced where Edge was pointing and saw that there was metal gleaming under my Drac's sleeve. "Those guys are really tough to kill."

"Yeah," I mumbled back.

"Hey, did you check if he had a Unit? They usually give the best fighters the Units so they can bring back the crappy ones…"

"Uh…" I hadn't checked for a Unit, actually. "Nope."

I flipped the corpse over to look for the special back pocket. Sure enough, a faint blue light was glowing on the back of the Draculoid through a thick, white velcroed pocket. I opened it up and held the Unit.

"Well," said Edge excitedly, "we have four now. None of us are going to be dying any time soon!"

"Yep," I mumbled again, twisting the glowing blue disc through my fingers. It was paper-thin, yet sturdy as any other metal. It always gave off a strange glow, probably with whatever it was injected with. Oh, I forgot to mention, it brings back the recently dead. Dracs used it so they could keep their ranks full.

"Hey, do you think it could bring back a cyborg?"

"Nah," Edge shook his head, "It only works on humans for some reason. But if it did, then that would be a whole ton of money saved for making those hunks of junk, eh?"

Edge flipped over the Drac, and then turned to me. "Why are you so interested in this one anyway?"

"Well," I muttered, "He seems different than the others. He _ran away_ from me. Dracs don't ever run; that's part of their training. Not to mention this." I showed him the picture of the family.

"That's a BL/ind watermark alright," said Edge after glancing at the print-out in the setting sun. "He probably wasn't supposed to have this."

"Let's get a picture of him," Edge mused after a pause, "and show some people that we see the picture. Maybe they'll recognize him or something."

"Okay." I pulled my camera, an old Polaroid, from my backpack (I had saved it from a Drac once). It was the kind that gives you your picture right away.

I straightened the corpse's head a bit, and brushed the dirt off of its suit. One arm was thrown behind his head awkwardly, and the other hung at his side. I pulled off his mask, and Edge and I both shuddered.

"That's so creepy, Sin," whispered Edge, "Take the picture quick."

I snapped the picture without hesitation, and pulled the mask back over the Drac's head. We both watched as the photo became visible and shuddered at the result. The Drac hadn't even looked dead. His eyes had been open, and his mouth set in a grim line.

"That was creepy," muttered Edge again, transfixed by the picture. He shook his head and then dumped more fluid on the bodies, especially that one. Then he pulled out a working lighter and set the whole scene ablaze. We watched the bodies burn for a minute or two, but turned our attention to a little girl's scream coming from the office building. We never knew what we were getting ourselves into, but truthfully, I will never regret it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, so this is Gilded Sin. I've never really done this before, so I'm just gonna try to update every weekend. Thanks so much to my unofficial beta/editor _thespeechlessconversation_ and the constant goading of _xxxShadowMagexxx_ to write more. If they hadn't supported me, you'd only be reading that first chapter...and that would be it.**

**So yeah, second chapter...uh...enjoy. :) And yeah, I don't own My Chemical Romance, the Danger Days universe, etc. Please don't sue me. :S However, I do own Gilded Sin and Tainted Edge (and several more OC's to come) along with the basic plotline. And fun fact: I loan out the Killjoy names I created, so if you want to use them for your own purposes, just ask.**

**Now on with the writing and such!**

"What was that?" asked Edge. We had both frozen at the sound of the blood-curdling scream. We looked at each other, nodded, and began sprinting towards the looming structure.

We stopped when the glass room came into view. What looked like the lobby of a hotel was filled with raygun fire. The four guys I had seen at a distance earlier were fighting off Draculoids like bats from hell. All I could see were flashes of their jackets, which were blue, black, red, and yellow? Or maybe green, I couldn't tell then.

I heard a thud, and saw the one with a blue jacket (and you couldn't miss the firetruck red hair) staring at the body of an unmasked Drac. Needless to say, the Killjoy looked familiar, but also shocked and miserable, like he had just shot a friend…

"How do those guys not see us!" I shushed Edge and kept watching the scene in the lobby. Hell, it was like a silent movie, except for, you know, the screaming little girl.

Blue Jacket had been grabbed by the throat by some bald guy. They stared each other down, Blue was unarmed, and Baldy shot Blue. Red Jacket gaped when he saw Blue Jacket fall, and started randomly shooting at Baldy. Red was shot down by stray Drac fire. One of the two left fighting grabbed the screaming girl, and Green Vest pushed Black Jacket and the Girl out of the door, before pulling it shut. Green Vest was shot down buying time for Black Jacket and the Girl.

"Hey Edge," I murmured, "I wanna…"

"We are getting _out of the way_!" hissed Edge, pulling me behind one of the pylons on the building. We could see around the corner and into the lobby, but the people inside didn't even know we were there, we hoped.

"Now don't come out until its safe," whispered Edge. I nodded faintly, my eyes still glued to the scene unfolding before my eyes.

Girl was called to a van, which had pulled up out of nowhere, while Black Jacket fought off Dracs starting to come out of the door. He backed up against a beautiful old Firebird, and was shot down where he stood, his body splayed across the hood.

Edge was tenser than I'd ever seen him. He watched the Dracs emerging from the building with a hateful glare while his hand rested on his raygun. He didn't want me to make a sound; he pushed a hand over my mouth as I tried to scream for the colored Jackets, as if they could save us, or I could wake them up from sleep.

When I finally settled down, we watched a Drac seal up the flame-headed Blue Jacket in a body bag, and load it into a van. They dragged out Red's body too; the one who had died protecting Blue. It was too depressing to watch.

"We need to help them," I hissed to Edge, "_please_."

"They're _dead_," he hissed back. "You can't save the dead."

"But we have four Units! That's just enough to save them!"

"And if we die saving them!" My eyes widened when Edge shouted. I looked around the corner to several Dracs glancing around, looking for the yell's source.

All of a sudden, they all stood up straight, stock-still. An Asian woman with a cold face strutted through the rows of Dracs, glaring at them like the scum they were. She held her hands clasped behind her back, and wore a standard grey suit with a skirt.

"You." She turned to a Drac and ripped off its mask. The Draculoid whimpered and held its hands to cover its exposed face. "How did the operation _pro-gress_?"

"Um, its, well—" The male Drac looked around at his comrades for help.

"Not quick _enough!_" She unclasped her hands to reveal a katana, gleaming in the fading light. Her porcelain hands guided the shining blade in a quick, slicing motion. The Draculoid fell to his knees, and hit the ground chest-first. His head rolled off of his dusted shoulders, and my stomach nearly did the same. Edge looked away with a nervous gulp.

"You!" She turned to the Draculoid directly behind her and lifted the blade until it was centimeters from his nose. "How did the operation," a dramatic pause, "_progress_?"

"You can't kill me, m'am," choked out the Drac in a deep country drawl. He pulled off a glove to reveal a glinting metal hand. "I'm your investment."

She cocked her head at an angle. "But you must realize that I still can make your miserable cyborg existence a living hell, correct?"

"Yes," whispered the Drac, "and I just wanted to tell you that the operation was a success."

Her sword arm relaxed slightly. "How much so?"

"The girl escaped as the Killjoys planned," replied the cyborg, "but we killed all four of them in the process." He gestured to Black and Yellow Jacket's body bags being loaded into a Better Living van. "They are a much more valuable asset _dead_ than some corporate leader's corrupted daughter."

"Very good," cooed the woman as she lowered her katana. "Are there any witnesses to the operation? Or have there been any suspicious sounds in the area?"

Several Dracs glanced at each other, but the cyborg quickly answered 'no'. Edge and I let out a sigh of relief.

"_Very good_," she murmured again, "very good C6527." She glanced up at him with slight recognition. "Or should I say, Mr. McCreery."

My mouth dropped open; I knew the voice had sounded familiar. I had heard him on American Idol, before the Fires. He won the whole she-bang, I think.

The unfazed (and still masked) C6527 gave a curt nod and salute as the woman strode back into the building. As soon as she left, all of the Dracs relaxed and C6527 began to give orders.

"Clean up this scene, M2952 through 60. She's coming outside in 15 minutes, and will be riding in that van with Korse and two escorts from corporate." He turned to head back into the building but called over his shoulder, "I'm shutting all office windows during the clean-up just in case you catch that yelper; I don't need them seeing it."

Several seconds after the Drac entered the building, blinds on every single window shot down. Several Dracs, nine to be exact, stayed outside and began to clean Black Jacket's blood off of the Firebird, along with just tidying up the area.

The spider on the car's hood struck me as familiar, but I couldn't remember exactly where I'd seen it. Unless…

I dug through my backpack and pulled out my old _Danger Days_ CD. It had the same spider on the cover. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"We have to help the guys they're loading into the van," I told Edge, "they're the _Fabulous_ _Killjoys_."

"And, who are they again?" asked Edge sarcastically. He shook his head and looked on.

"THEY ARE OUR LEADERS!" I shouted, "PARTY POISON, FUN GHOUL, JET STAR, AND KOBRA KID! _HOW CLUELESS ARE YOU!"_

Edge's eyes had widened as I yelled, and I sighed with relief. "You understand now?"

But Edge shook his head and pulled out his raygun. "Get down you doofus!"

I whirled around to see the cleanup crew of Dracs watching us with slight amusement. I hit the cement and Edge began firing, taking out one Draculoid. They realized that we had gotten serious and drew their own guns. I pulled out two guns from my sash (my own and a dead Drac's) and charged into the fire. Startled by the offensive, the Dracs' formation wavered and I brought down four. I turned for a minute to see Edge fighting hand-to-hand with one Draculoid and losing. I gunned the Drac down without a second glance.

"Well," Edge breathlessly explained, "it threw my gun somewhere near the windows."

I nodded at two Drac rayguns in his belt. "I guess that's why we save those, eh?"

He chuckled and nodded as I took down two more who had charged out from behind the Killjoy's trans-am.

"I think there's only one-" Edge was cut off as he was grabbed from behind by a bit of BL/ind scum.

"Drop your weapon," yelled the Draculoid. She was obviously female, and winded at that. "Or he gets it."

I quickly glanced at her stance. She held Edge in a headlock, and had one foot that wasn't shielded by his body.

"In your dreams." She cried when I shot her arm, and stumbled back from Edge when I shot her foot. I dropped both guns and came at her scrabbling form with my fists raised. One minor beating later, she was in a headlock similar to Edge's.

"Please," she whimpered, "I'll do anything you want. The keys to their vehicle are in my pocket." I let her go after a moment's hesitation and she tossed me the worn keys. I gazed at them in amazement, since cars hadn't had keys since before the Fires; now they had finger scanners.

While I was distracted, she picked up my gun from the ground and fired at me. She missed by a long shot, but Edge was dead-on.

"Almost killed by your own gun, huh Sin?"

I glared at him, but his newfound swagger was hard to stay angry at. "Shut up."

"What," asked Edge, after laughing like a hyena, "do we do now? We have a car, two bikes, a ton of corpses, and your backpack full of dead people's crap."

"Don't forget your food stash," I added, chuckling, "And never forget the guns."

"Well of course…" Tainted Edge studied my face for a moment and sighed. "I guess I'll haul the Dracs behind the building then?"

I grinned; he knew me too well. "I'll load the bikes in the Firebird."

"Trans-am!" corrected Edge, who was already dragging one by its white boots to the dumpster.

Ignoring him, I went back over to the demolished building around the corner, whose wreckage housed two colorfully painted bikes. They were both of the same design, and the same design as any Draculoid's bike for that matter, but each had a spirit of their own.

I grabbed mine first. I had shined it up first, scraping the white paint off of it. Several nights of spazzing out with a bunch of colored spray paint cans added a little extra color. Edge's had the beginnings of hand-painted flames, each lick a slightly different shade of blue. I grabbed one handlebar of each and lugged them back to where Edge was still cleaning up. By the time I'd grabbed the rest of our stuff, everything was spick and span.

"Hey," wheezed Edge, "When does the lady come back outside again?"

I put down the bike and thought for a second. As I thought, Edge grabbed it from me and put it in the trans-am's back seat. His was already in the trunk, and a second later he threw his food bag, my guitar, and my backpack in with my bike.

"That one Drac said she would be fifteen minutes, why?" Edge motioned for me to get in the car, so I dove into shotgun.

We ducked down behind the dash and heard the 'shwip' of blinds. Voices began to approach our car, so we dug ourselves in a little deeper and listened carefully.

"…need to get them to our facility. If we get tests done on them soon, we might be able to save the DNA for cyborgs. If we don't mutilate them soon, they will be able to receive Units in the next 24 hours. And did you find out who hacked the system last week?"

"No," answered a deep, clipped, and smooth voice. "But nothing of value was taken anyway, only a single print-out from before the Revisions."

Edge and I shuddered when we heard 'Revisions' used instead of 'Fires'. Only Better Living called them that, censoring the true nature of their rise to power.

"How long is our drive?" asked the female voice, shaking us out of our fear.

"Two hours if we drive with full escort," answered the male voice. "One if I am the driver and we use the minimum two-bike escort."

The two voices laughed coldly, and the deep voice mumbled some command. A car engine revved, and then faded. Two bikes followed suit. Jumbled voices faded and a glass door clinked shut. Silence was our only company.

Edge pulled himself up into the driver's seat and held out his hand. I dangled the keys over his waiting fingers.

"Are you forgetting something?" I cooed.

"Fine. We'll go after their little caravan. We'll save the Fabulous Killjoys, if you want."


	3. Chapter 3

**So hey! I'm a little bit early! I'll probably still update this weekend, don't worry. I will switch POV's several times in the story, so bear with me. These changes are marked (like below). Anyway, enjoy!**

**Also, a question: should I make the chapters longer or shorter? Either can be arranged, or they can stay the same. It doesn't really matter.**

**(Disclaimer: I do not own MCR or the Danger Days universe. I _do_ own the OC's and plot line.)**

_Korse POV_

The Asian woman in the seat next to Korse was speaking rapid Japanese into an earpiece. Her reedy voice was slowly rising to a screech, and he was ready to punch through the windshield. Being a cyborg had its advantages, like immense strength, security clearance, and when your rank allowed, controlling the company. Mortals weren't allowed to be CEO, and were designated with M's at the beginning of their codes.

The woman beside him held the highest rank an M could attain. At this point, all M's were supposed to have been weeded out from authority positions. But this M's unstable mental condition, which kept her from becoming a cyborg, a C, kept her alive at her rank as a mortal. Korse had used up 7 cyborg forms, and yet she had no scratches on her sole form. Amazing but true.

Finally, she pressed a button on the Seashell and prodded the arm he was driving with. "The hacker from last week was a cyborg, but its signature was recently deleted. It was killed in action, so its data access records were deleted. It's standard procedure to keep our database's storage space free. Anyway, it won't remember a thing when it wakes up again in a new body, they never do. You're the only one who ever does."

She said the last part very matter of fact.

Korse had pressed the van's accelerator all the way down because it was such a slow machine, and he needed to move fast, like those new age vampires. He was so used to moving fast that he emulated it even when he attempted to blend in. Especially when he was driving.

He frowned when he heard an engine rev somewhere. Korse saw the white escort bike with a Drac ahead of him, and his rear escort was visible in the rear view mirror, albeit the bike was darkened from the van's gray rear lights.

"It's another vehicle." The woman answered his thoughts without blinking. "Unauthorized, four wheels, likely rogue. The only rogue with four wheels we knew of belonged to the men in the back." She slapped the white curtain behind her. "This is likely an undocumented one."

Korse watched in amusement as a car approached rapidly from behind. He waited for his rear escort to shoot out the tires and continue on. When the trans-am was close enough for its painted spider to be visible, both Korse and the woman waited for their darkened escort to do its duty, but what came instead was unexpected.

_Gilded Sin POV_

I had taken out the rear Drac bike as soon as the sun had set in the Zones. The screech of metal and crunch of bone, luckily, wasn't heard by the speeding van's occupants, or the front escort bike. So I took my spot in the shadows in the rear, waiting for Edge to make a move. Then I could make mine.

Eventually, Edge sped up out of the shadows to distract the van. I yielded to his trans-am, in the process pulling behind the Better Living van, and into the blind spot in the rear view mirrors. By pulling into this spot, I could then pull up to the van's back doors.

The trans-am pulled back behind the van and next to me. As I held on to the waving van doors, I gripped the bike between my legs, keeping it stable.

As the speeding pavement flew by, I kept one hand on a door, and I pulled open the trans-am's back door as well. I used my arms to push myself off of the pavement and toss the bike into the van's back. I let go of the trans-am door, and swung on the van's door into the belly of the beast.

The trans-am's tires squealed loudly, and so the van's door slamming was inaudible thanks to the white noise.

The Asian woman in shotgun pulled back a curtain, exposing me in all my Killjoy glory. A bald man driving the car whirled around and shared her gaping expression.

"How did—"

I nailed a perfect shot between his eyes, and he twitched peculiarly. The woman beside him began fiddling with something about her waist, but the close quarters hindered her. I shot one of her arms, and she cried out, flailing them wildly in the cramped space. In the process, she bumped the door handle and fell onto the pavement through the now-open door.

The man still remained in the driver's seat, and was trying to stay on the road. Sparks and smoke were coming from the hole in his head. He kept glancing back at me with rage, but was clearly having trouble managing both the road and his injury. I didn't hesitate to hop into the vacated seat beside him and shoot him again in the head. It jerked back and his body stiffened as if in a seizure. He stomped on the brakes hard, making smoke from the burning rubber.

All of a sudden, Edge pulled in front of the van and hit the front escort with a satisfying crunch. The tires squealed as he wrenched the trans-am's wheel to face the van. Edge leaned out the window and shot at the twitching man beside me. Everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

_Gilded Sin POV_

I came to on the pavement, rolled over onto my side, and threw up.

"Welcome back," called Edge from the nearby van, nervously glancing at my neck. He was dragging out the fourth body bag from the back. "I hope you're alright."

I looked at him confusedly, and reached to touch where he had looked. There was a soaked bandage wrapped around my neck and shoulder. When I slowly took my hand away, it was dampened with blood.

"YOU SHOT MY JUGULAR!"

"No," muttered Edge, "just missed it. Thought I ghosted you for a minute, though. Don't worry, that stuff came from the van. The Dracs really stock their First Aid stuff well."

I shook my head and winced as I aggravated the wound.

As I stood, I began to feel faint again. Seeing the trail of blood from the car to where I had been dragged to didn't help my stomach either.

"Hey, do you know what happened to the cyborg?"

Tainted Edge laughed. "Oh yeah, I shot him in the face, and it melted down. Since he wasn't going down when you fired, I put your extension thing on my gun to give it some extra oomph."

"Edge you _idiot_! That's only for long distance shots. You were tops twenty feet away—"

I staggered a bit mid-yell and grasped at the van for support. "I'm losing blood Edge."

He ignored me and gestured wildly.

"Just look at this guy though." He dragged out the corpse of what had been the bald cyborg. His face was singed off and his skull had melted into itself from the blast. The rest of his body had burn marks, probably from flying sparks of the mini explosions of machinery. Although this shot was killing me right now (literally), it was pretty satisfying.

"And that's not all." He pulled the ID card from the pocket of the scorched suit. The grin of the bald man in the picture was terrifying, but I noted with a chuckle that he looked a lot like comic book artist Grant Morrison. I read the text below the picture out loud.

"Cyborg, code C1. Rank CEO. Title: Korse." I frowned at the badge. "That can't be right. That Korse guy is like, in charge of Better…_ohmygod._"

I turned slowly to Edge. "You killed Korse. You _killed_ Korse."

He grinned like a lunatic. "I know, that's great, Sin, right?"

My eye twitched. "You killed Korse, and _you almost killed ME!_ Not to mention the fact that he's a cyborg, and he's gonna come back and hunt you down. With the Killjoys gone, we'll be the number one targets! We've worked so hard to keep on the down-low, and look what you did!"

"We can resurrect the Killjoys, remember?" added Edge. "That was the point of this entire mission. You have the Units."

If I had been alone and not dying, I would have slammed my head into the van's side, many times, right then and there. But, I was _not_ alone and I _was_ dying, so I just quietly handed the smirking Edge two Units.

"I'll go first," he chuckled, chest puffed out with pride. It was the first time I had ever let him win an argument. Ever.

"Just save them, there's no order," I muttered as I unzipped the body bag nearest me. Green Vest lay, eyes closed, face-up with a bullet wound on his chest. I placed the disk on the center of his torso and pressed the big button in the center.

The disk began whirring and thin, spindly legs emerged from the edges. These needlelike structures gripped tightly to the corpse's chest, and a single shock shook the body. The chest wound had mysteriously disappeared, and a glow seemed to come back to his skin. The blue light in the disk was beginning to fade.

Eventually the whirring ended and the light had faded from the disk. The guy laying there seemed to have a healthier glow, and his eyes snapped open. The whole process was kind of like rebooting a computer.

"Hey!" the guy said, "where did everybody go?"

He sat up slowly and glanced up at me, puzzled. Emotions flashed over his face obviously; first surprise, then confusion, then just, well, a big grin.

"Pleased to meet ya, there," he said as he pulled himself out of the body bag and brushed himself off, "I'm Fun Ghoul." He held out a dusty hand for a shake.

I shook his hand and nodded.

"I'm Gilded Sin," I answered, "and that—" I gestured to where Edge was standing, "—is Tainted Edge."

I heard a yelp come from there and turned to face it. Another one had come back, this one with the black jacket and a huge afro. He was making a face at Edge, who was whimpering slightly.

"Chill, kid. I'm not that scary, am I?"

Fun Ghoul grinned when he saw his friend. "Jet! Brother, nice to see you alive and well."

The guy, Jet apparently, smiled back. "Nice to see you alive, too. Weren't you killed by all those Dracs a minute ago?"

"Yes, you were, but it's been more like several hours."

The two Killjoys turned to face me, both looking surprised. Fun Ghoul was the first to talk.

"Cool!"

Jet on the other hand…

"Then how're Party and Kobra? I watched both of them die. And you too, Ghoul."

I shrugged and lumbered over to another body bag, disc in hand. "They're dead for now, just give it a minute."

I put the disc on the Killjoy with the red jacket's chest. Jet looked suspicious.

"So you're telling us that those shiny CD things Dracs carry around bring back the dead? That's not possible."

"Just watch," I murmured, pressing the button and then staggering back from the one Jet had called Kobra.

As the blonde Killjoy was reanimated, the other two gasped in amazement. The glowing finally stopped, and Kobra Kid sat up, yawned, and grinned like a madman at his friends.

"How'd we get out this time?"

The other two ran up in pure joy; Jet gave an awkward high-five while Fun Ghoul latched on to Kobra with a manly hug.

"Why is your guy so clingy," whispered Tainted Edge.

"Fun Ghoul is not my guy," I hissed back, "what are you talking about?"

Edge sighed dramatically. "Never mind, Sin. Just bring back the next one, okay?"

He closed his eyes after pointing to the last occupied body bag.

"Party Poison," I whispered incredulously after unzipping the plastic, revealing the crimson-haired Killjoy.

"Yeah whatever." Edge pushed my hand holding the disc towards his chest. "Get on with it."

I pressed the button and light began to flow into the body as usual. But this time, when the glowing ended and the disc fell off, the Killjoy didn't move.

Kobra Kid frowned. "Is he alright?"

"I hope so," muttered Fun Ghoul, nudging the body with his foot. "I'd miss the guy."

I furrowed my brow at Party Poison. He should be moving by now.

"One second…"

I leaned towards his form, struggling a bit to keep my balance.

"Party Poison," I whispered tentatively.

His eyes snapped open to reveal deep brown pools, and his fist flew into my face. Again, everything went black.

_Party Poison POV_

I lashed out when the Drac got close to my face. Its figure crumpled like a burning leaf.

Once it had gone down, I grinned, wild with rage, and began kicking the limp form as hard as I could in the side. It was only a matter of time before I heard ribs crack.

Behind me, I heard a familiar voice shout.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

Fun Ghoul was standing, pointing at the Drac I was taking down, dumbstruck.

"What does it look like," I chuckled, "We down Dracs every day."

I noticed Kobra and Jet were looking at me with the same dumbfounded stare.

Ghoul shook his head. "Open your eyes genius."

I looked again at the Drac and...it wasn't a Drac. Not a Draculoid at all. I had just knocked out and beaten up a girl, and by the way she dressed, a Killjoy no less.

My jaw must have dropped when Ghoul interrupted my thoughts.

"She needs medical attention now," he said, pointing at blood pouring from a wound in her neck, "We need to get her to Doctor D."

"Who's that?"

I glanced to where the new voice had come from. Another Killjoy, a guy and likely her companion, stared at me blankly.

"He helps run the Killjoy pirate radio station," I told him, "and he's a trained doctor. But no questions now, load her in the trans-am."

Kobra shook his head. "No, it's too cramped in there. We'll put her in the BL/ind truck with a med kit."

"Yeah," added Jet, "Ghoul, you drive the van. You over there, uh-"

"Tainted Edge," piped up Fun Ghoul.

"Edge, ride a bike alongside the cars, and Kobra and I will use the trans-am."

Just like Jet to hand out jobs. Neatfreak.

I headed to the drivers seat of the trans-am, but Ghoul stopped me.

"You've done enough damage today. You're on nurse's duty in the van while I drive. Besides-"

He motioned to Edge, who was tossing Kobra my car's keys.

"-those aren't in your pocket anymore."

Kobra grinned when he got the keys. The new guy, Edge, was switching bikes from the car's trunk.

"Hey," I called, "just use the one that's already out."

He shook his head. "That's her bike. This one's mine. Deal."

I was about to tell him off when he cut me off.

"Oh yeah. If you hurt her again, I'll snap you in half, ginger."

He nonchalantly pulled his bandana over his mouth and revved the bike's engine.

A door behind me opened. Ghoul was sitting in the driver's seat while the bleeding girl was laid across several body bags.

"What are you waiting for? Get in!"

I had been pressing bandages on her neck for a while now, but I was running out of fresh ones. The blood kept coming, and she was getting paler and paler.

"How's she?" Ghoul had been yelling over the van's blaring radio.

I wiped my bloody hands on my jeans and shivered. "Not good at all."

In the rearview mirror, I could see Ghoul biting his lip.

"Is she still breathing?"

I leaned close to her parted lips and felt a slight wisp escape her lips. "Yep."

He sighed with relief. "Good. I can see the diner from here. We'll be there in a minute."

I nodded slowly and took a closer look at the dying Killjoy. She had brown hair kind of like mine would be if I wasn't, as her friend Edge called me, a ginger.

But her hair was a bit red now because it was sticky with blood from her neck wound. A purple streak ran through the matted mess. All of a sudden, I saw her eyes flutter open.

"Edge...you bastard..." she mumbled.

"No, no," I quickly answered, "he's not here."

"And who is," she rasped, her slitted eyes watching me, "the drag fairy?"

I chuckled at her joke. Even dying, she seemed to have a sense of humor.

"Where'd you come up with that one?"

She tried to shake her head but winced. Her wound began bleeding heavily again.

"You came up with that one..." she squinted at me briefly, "Gerard."

My eyes widened at her use of the name. "I'm not Gerard. I'm Party Poison, and besides-"

"No," she whispered, "you're Gerard." Her eyes closed and she slipped out of consciousness again.

"Wait!" I yelled at her, shaking her and trying to wake her up, "how much do you know about Gerard? Tell me, please!"

The van's back doors opened and Kobra began sliding her out of the space.

"What now, Kobra!" I yelled, "What now?"

Dr. Death Defying wheeled over from the diner.

"You're back now, Party. Let Kobra take her to the hospital so we can help her."

"It's hardly a hospital," I grumbled, but let Kobra take her away.

Fun Ghoul popped up beside me with the medical kit from the van.

"We found this in the van, Doctor," he added, handing over the box, "hope it helps."

The Doctor grinned as he scanned the new supplies. He frowned after a second.

"Ghoul, aren't there supposed to be bandages in here?"

"No," I cut in, "there weren't any when we opened the box."

He nodded approvingly. "These will help a lot, boys. And it's good to know that you didn't waste bandages. Panic! Attack!"

The mousy Killjoy dashed out from the garage. "Yeah Doctor?"

"We need to patch up somebody."

She nodded, and glanced worriedly at us. "Where are Jet and Kobra?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Kobra's helping us in the room as we speak, and

Jet's pulling the trans-am around. Let's move."

She jumped nervously, nodded vigorously at him, and wheeled him into the diner.

Jet appeared from behind the van and glanced at me worriedly. "You okay, bro?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Yeah man, of course."

"Nuh uh," hissed Ghoul excitedly, "Party just lied to the Doc about the bandages." He slapped my shoulder. "Good job, goody two-shoes." With that he practically bounced into the diner.

Jet clambered into the van, balled up the bloody bandages, and set them on fire with a lighter from his pocket. He dropped them into the dust as the flames spread, then died.

As I stared at the ashes in the dust, Jet looked me over slowly. Finally, he asked me again: 'You okay, bro?'

It took a while for me to answer.

"She called me Gerard," I whispered back, still staring at the ashes. "I haven't heard that name in so long."

"Do you think she knows..."

"No, I don't."

We stood silently for a moment, until a sudden breeze swept up the dust and ashes. Both of us shivered as the dust swirled and settled, and we wordlessly strode into the diner.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey, it's Sin here! Sorry I haven't updated as much as I've wanted too...school's just been crazy recently. But now it's spring break, and I can post more!**

**Also, shout-outs to those of you who reviewed my story: CellphaneHydrogen and AshtrayTragedyM.D! The encouragement is appreciated. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dangerverse, but the plot and all OC's are mine.**

***Fun Fact: There will be quite a lot of OC's in this story. They will be added gradually and will shift in and out as needed. It's just sometimes I feel like these recurring characters need some straightening out, ya know? ;)**

**Finally, on with the reading! **

_Gilded Sin POV_

I came to in a room covered in faded posters. Some were old advertisements, for cigarettes or gasoline, but I noticed a Misfits poster, along with one for Taylor Swift. I snorted when I saw her fearless smile and floating curls, now ripped and coated in grime. Weren't we all, now.

"Hello there." I sat up fast and looked around. A man in a wheelchair was steering his way into the room. I noticed there was no door.

"You must be Gilded Sin. I'm Doctor Death Defying. Most people call me the Doctor." He held out a hand for me to shake. I shook it.

"How did you know my name, Doctor? How did I end up in here? And since you are the Doctor, do you have a TARDIS perchance?"

He laughed heartily, a deep chuckle. "He did mention you had a sense of humor."

I looked at him quizzically.

"Fun Ghoul," he added, "he told me your name. He's taken quite interest in you, you know. I just kicked him out of here."

It was my turn to laugh. "The short one, right? He seems nice enough."

"Well, anyway, you had quite a wound on your neck. I hear it was friendly fire from your companion, Tainted Edge."

I nodded. "Yeah, when he was trying to ghost Korse, he hit me in the neck. Second shot was a charm, I guess."

The Doctor seemed surprised. "I thought you were conscious to revive our friends the Killjoys."

"I was; I'd passed out from blood loss and woke up just in time to use the Units."

Another deep chuckle emanated from the Doctor. Around the door frame, I thought I saw some fleeting movement, but I ignored it. "Well then, it's a good thing we put you on fluids. See you around, sunshine." With that, he wheeled out of the room.

I waved as he left the room, but then frowned with confusion. He'd said he'd put me on fluids. How could you do that? Maybe he meant…

I slowly turned to look at my right arm and saw the long IV needle sticking out. The thin metal was stabbing into one of my veins right now. I whimpered.

I was deathly afraid of needles, and now there was one, just sticking out of my arm. I stared at the IV drip, wide-eyed and speechless.

I whimpered again, and I realized I was frozen in fear. My vision began to blur, and I realized what was happening.

I was having a panic attack.

Somewhere in the blurry darkness of the room, red fuzz appeared. It approached to where I was hyperventilating and I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You're fine. There are no Dracs here, and no one's going to hurt you. What's wrong?"

Half of the fuzz seemed to bob, and it whispered.

"God. Kobra, I think it's the needle." The form twitched. "Get it out of her, and my sight."

The other fuzzy shape ripped the medical tape off of my arm, as I could hear, and I felt a pinch as the metal left my arm. Suddenly a voice was dangerously close to my ear.

"_All better_."

As my vision unblurred, the forms which had helped me solidified into people. I recognized Kobra Kid and gave him a thankful nod, but almost panicked again when I saw the second person. A very important person. I was so shocked I could barely choke out his name.

"P-party Poison…"

The Killjoy grinned at me wickedly, his brother holding the needle between two fingers like some kind of dirty sock. All of a sudden Kobra threw it behind him, the glass tube shattering when it hit the wall. Suddenly, all of the tension left Party's body and he chuckled.

"Don't step on it on the way out," muttered Kobra, who pulled off his red leather jacket and stalked out of the room. In the meantime, I gaped at Party Poison and quickly shut my mouth as he spoke.

"I don't like needles either."

I was still staring at him like God was standing before me.

"You're Party Poison. Oh my God. You're real. You're _real_!"

He shook his head slowly, a serious look crossing his face.

"No, this is all a dream. Wake up, Sin." He cracked a grin. His voice had been dripping with sarcasm.

"_You know my name_," I whispered incredulously. Then I shook myself out of my amazement and coughed self-consciously.

"I mean, you're terrified of needles too?"

He nodded vigorously, clearly unfazed by my previous worship of him.

"It's the only thing that I'm afraid of, if they're pointed at me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Not death, too?"

He shook his head, his red hair falling into his eyes this time.

"It's gonna come for all of us, and out of all people—," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, "—I'm one of the most likely ones to get ghosted. Might as well welcome it with open arms."

"Uh…" I didn't really know what to say to that.

"Here." Party offered me a hand. "Let's get you out of this mess."

I muttered my thanks and pulled myself up and out of the cot. After getting on my legs again, I tottered to the door and into the main part of the diner, Poison right behind me.

I was wearing my jacket, but someone had changed me out of my bloodstained t-shirt, I noticed. But in my outfit, I fit right in with the scene at hand.

The short one, Fun Ghoul, was shoveling what looked like oatmeal in a can into his mouth like he was starving. He grinned when he saw me, and waved me over.

As I walked to him, I saw Kobra, minus his jacket, reading a magazine at another diner's booth and Jet Star sleeping on a couch against the wall. For once, I was dressed for the occasion.

"How're you feeling?" Ghoul grinned when I said 'better'. "Great, great. Yeah, Party here wanted to ask you some questions."

"Oh god." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kobra throw down his magazine and walk out of the diner. Then I glanced at Party, who was turning a bit red. He mumbled some kind of apology, but Ghoul kept on talking.

"When you were knocked out, you muttered something and called him Gerard. What _did_ you mean by that?"

I frowned, confused.

"What I never—"

"_Put your hands over your head now, I'm n-not afraid to shoot!_"

We all turned to the window, where we saw somebody pointing a gun at a surprised Kobra's head.

"_Give me all your supplies and I'll think about not spilling your brains right now._"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oh hey there again! Well, due to popular demand and lack of anything better to do, I've decided to post the next chapter a week early. This chapter is a longer one (not by much), so it should satiate some of you for now. And there's no massive cliffhanger at the end. I'm not _always_ evil.**

**Also, I'd like to thank my reviewers for the encouragement, et cetera, et cetera, and they be: AshtrayTragedyM.D, CellophaneHydrogen, and The Writer Child. They're awesome, just saying. (Sadly Hydro, the OC _is_ a girl. :/ Sorry 'bout that. Still, as I told my beta, the menfolk be needin' the estrogen. Otherwise they'd just spontaneously combust or something, and that wouldn't be good. :) )**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dangerverse, but the plot and the OC's are mine.**

***Fun Fact: (I'll probably make this a thing now, if you don't mind) I have an _excess_ of fic saved on my computer, so I would never have nothing to post. I planned very far ahead. Yet still, the end is a very far way away. *sigh* I may have too much time into this.**

**Enough self-pity, though! Enjoy the update!**

_Gilded Sin POV_

Poison had pulled his raygun on the girl in a split second, forgetting our conversation. He stalked to the door, gun still locked on the assailant's forehead, and yelled out.

"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?"

The person standing there was covered in desert dust. She wore a raggedy black jacket over a bright blue shirt and neon pink skinny jeans. She had dyed her hair bright red, only a shade darker than Party's. A beat-up messenger bag was thrown over her shoulder, and she held a large shotgun in her shaking hands.

That's right; this skinny Killjoy was threatening her leaders with a lousy gun from before the Fires.

When she saw Poison, she faltered, but shifted the gun to him.

"You, give me your supplies…" Her voice, muffled from a yellow bandana, trailed off as Ghoul and I left the diner as well, our guns trained on her spindly form.

"You're outnumbered. Hand over the gun." A petite Killjoy had popped out of the garage with her own raygun. She had black hair with neon pink bangs, a teal jacket, and red jeans patched with rainbow colors.

Ghoul flicked a nod at the new addition to our group. "Nice to see you too, Panic!."

Panic! flinched when she noticed all of us defending Kobra and nearly dropped her gun.

"S-s-sorry guys, I-I-I d-didn't see you there…"

What had once been a formidable Killjoy on our side was now a stuttering mess.

The rogue Killjoy had slowly lowered her gun and was looking at us strangely. Then she asked us:

"Are you guys the Fabulous Killjoys and friends? You're missing somebody…"

"_SHADDUP OUT THERE I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!_"

"Right on cue, Jet," muttered Kobra, "right on cue."

The Killjoy was still giving the guys a peculiar look.

"You all are way too young to be the Fabulous Killjoys. Shouldn't you guys be, like, forty? It's 2019 for crying out loud!"

Ghoul, who hadn't moved his gun an inch, shook his head. "We _are_ the Fabulous Killjoys. You got a problem with that?"

And of course to make matters worse…

"What in God's name is going on out here?"

Oh Edge, you never had good timing.

"Well," chuckled the girl Killjoy, "I'm obviously not raiding a Drac house like I thought. Sorry for the confusion, guys."

With that, she plopped down on the ground and started rummaging through her bag. She ended up pulling down her bandana and munching on a Better Living granola bar. Despite myself, my mouth was watering.

"Oh really," Party Poison sneered, "Because Kobra and I are _obviously_ Dracs. You _really_ think that threatening your own kind is a good idea?"

The girl shrugged and took another bite of the bar.

"You really expect me to believe that you guys are Killjoys if genius here is wearing all black and white? And for all I know, you could have been his prisoner."

We all looked at Kobra, who **was** wearing only those colors: white jeans and a black t-shirt.

"He looks like a Draculoid on break," continued the girl.

Fun Ghoul frowned at this, his forehead crinkling. I'd never seen him frown before. Then again, I hadn't known him all that long.

"How would you know what a Drac on break looks like?" he asked.

The girl looked away and stopped munching. "That's a long story that you probably don't want to hear."

Party slowly lowered his gun. "So you're not going to try to kill us?"

"Nope," answered the girl, who was now grinning, "and I'd even be willing to help you guys out. I'm an internal affairs expert, if I do say so myself."

Edge, who had never drawn his gun, spoke up. "How do we know that we can trust you?"

"How did they know they could trust _you_ when you met them?" she shot back.

He folded his arms across his chest and puffed up. "Sin and I brought them back from the dead, if you must know."

"All of you be quiet." Doctor Death Defying wheeled himself out of the garage around where Panic! had come from. "I think we should trust her."

Fun Ghoul was obviously annoyed. "What makes you think that she should join the team?"

The Doctor looked her over. "Where did you come from, Killjoy?"

"San Diego," she answered automatically, "or what was left of it. They blew it to smithereens about a couple months ago."

We all went silent after this. San Diego had been the last Killjoy-held city in all of California. It was free of Better Living despite its closeness to Battery City, which was built from the ashes of Los Angeles. There had been rumors in the Zones about its destruction, but none had been confirmed.

"So Killjoy," the Doctor mused, "what is your name?"

The girl grinned wickedly, kind of like Ghoul, when she replied.

"Call me Soul Demon."

It was obvious that everybody but the Doctor and Jet Star (who had given up on sleeping) was suspicious of the new addition to our group. I felt a tiny bit bad for her when we all sat down in the diner and didn't offer her a seat. She plopped down on the middle of the floor, still holding her gun.

The more I looked at her gun, the more I was intrigued. Before the Fires, I had been a history buff. It was obvious that her old shotgun was old enough to still use bullets, but the wooden stock seemed to have a bit more age than that. In fact, Soul Demon's gun looked like one for a cowboy in an old Western rather than for a Killjoy.

"So, Soul Demon" rumbled the Doctor, "how did you become a Killjoy?"

"She was probably put up to this by BL," muttered Party under his breath.

"What's with the hostility, bro," I heard Jet hiss back, "she's like us."

"She almost shot Kobra," Party whispered.

"And if you were starving in the desert, wouldn't you shoot somebody?" Jet's question was a little bit louder than intended; I could tell by the way he flinched when he finished speaking.

Meanwhile, Party opened his mouth and closed it again, scrunching his eyebrows together. I could tell he wanted to say 'no', but knew he would be lying if he said so.

"_Anyway_," Soul Demon practically shouted, "sorry to stop your arguing about my credibility, but I've got a story to tell, according to the Doctor. Shut up and listen."

I saw Kobra crack a grin at this, and punch Party lightly on the shoulder.

"Chill out, bro. She's got enough sass for you and Ghoul combined."

Everybody laughed, but Fun Ghoul came over and sat down on my lap.

"I like you better, you're a quiet one," he muttered. He failed to notice how awkward this was until I coughed and scooted over in my booth. Finally, he took the hint and sat down like a semi-normal person. Emphasis on the 'semi'.

Then Soul Demon began her story.

_I woke up to the usual hum of San Diego: people, animals, cars, and whatnot. I didn't expect my life to be changed forever._

_I ran down the stairs with my backpack, its neon colors blazing in a world of gray. Mom and Dad had hinted at going on a road trip. I saw Dad's duffel packed at the bottom of the stairs. I called out to them, begging to be told our destination._

_Two gunshots echoed through the house, and I dashed into the living room. Mom had been wheeling her suitcase to the car, but had been gunned down before reaching the door. As she chortled on blood pooling in her throat, my dad turned to me from his spot on the floor, already dripping with his own blood._

"Run," _he whispered, and I took off. I ran out of the back door and hopped on my Dad's motorcycle. I had watched him ride it when I was a little girl, and hoped this would help me._

_As I limped it to the road, vans with blaring BL/ind logos pulled up to my house. I pounded on the gas and began riding into the distance. Away from my life, family, and death._

At this point, Soul Demon paused, obviously trying to get her emotions under control. Everyone had become sincere, and I had a feeling she would fit in fine here. She looked at Doctor Death Defying and he nodded for her to continue.

_I drove all of the way out of urban San Diego and into a more secluded suburb just before they would give way to quieter beach towns. I stopped at a gas station and decided to get a snack since I had packed plenty of money for souvenirs before I'd run._

_I walked up to the little cement building with a cashier and offered him some cash to fill my tank and to grab a couple snacks. For some reason, the guy said he'd fill the tank up himself, took the cash, and went over to the pump. I leaned against the far wall of the building, waiting for him to finish._

_In the distance, I heard airplanes flying overhead. Since we were so close to the naval base on Coronado, I thought nothing of it at first._

_But then came the boom. I popped out from behind the building to see small fires, no _explosions_, break out all across distant San Diego. The planes overhead had begun dropping bombs across the city. The explosions were beginning to expand, white light expanding outwards at, well, the speed of light. I jumped back behind the building, and out of the corner of my eye saw the worker drop the gas pump nozzle and stand in shock._

_I closed my eyes and felt the roar of light hit the cement beside me, not hitting me because of my shelter._

_Slowly I stepped out from behind the wall and saw the damage done. San Diego, my home and one of the last livable cities on the West Coast, was completely flattened. Trees were razed clean of their leaves, and the houses around me were eerily quiet. Some kind of dust hung in the air, making smog that reminded me of the old LA haze. Except this dust smelled burned, charred even._

_I ran over to where the guy had been standing at the pump, but I couldn't find him. The nozzle was leaking fluid that was pooling like blood where I'd last seen him. It was like he'd disappeared into thin air._

_But then I looked more closely at where he'd stood. There was a shadow of a man imprinted on the gas tank's surface, who was shielding his eyes in eternal darkness. I realized with a sinking feeling where I'd seen something similar: shadows from Hiroshima. _

_ I knew who had done this, of course: Better Living. They'd been trying to infiltrate the area on the ground, but had been failing miserably. I guess they decided not to bother brainwashing the rest of us. They went right to the big guns and cut their losses. I'm probably one of the last people left alive from there, considering the entire city was flattened in the blast. So I'm taking revenge on the people who killed my parents, and all of those Killjoys who didn't deserve to die._

After Soul Demon finished, there was utter silence. Everybody had their eyes glued to her except for Party, who was staring listlessly at nothing.

All of a sudden, he mumbled something about being tired, stood up and stormed out of the diner. Our eyes all followed him as he left.

Ghoul coughed after a moment and looked Demon in the eye.

"I'm sorry that we were all so fuckin' horrible to you earlier. We never thought..."

She cut him off. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

This time Edge spoke up. "We won't anymore. Hell, we're supposed to be the good guys, right?" Everybody laughed, even Soul Demon.

"If there's anything I can do...?" She shook her head at my question.

"Go help that ginger buddy of yours. He seemed kinda bothered by my story."

I stood up and headed to the hall that Party had run down.

"Oh and one more thing." I paused at the doorframe. "Can I bunk with you?"

I grinned at her. "Sure thing."

"Cool." She threw back her own wicked smile.

"Wait a darn minute! Girls," cut in Doctor D, "you'll both have to share a room with Panic! Attack here. We're not a hotel with a million rooms, you know."

"You're right," added Ghoul, "we're a DINER with a BILLION rooms."

I left the room to a chorus of lighthearted groans, one of Ghoul's yelps followed by Jet's faint muttering 'you deserved it', and Kobra's chuckle.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well. End of year cramming can really be annoying. I have more story for you guys, but I was writing a bit in my absence...just not posting. Please don't kill me...I intend to finish this, I really do. I only have so much internet time in relation to homework time. Enjoy the words. :)**

The hall was dark and short, with one door at the far end slightly open. Judging by the almost inaudible rustling coming from inside, I figured Party was there.

"Party Poison?" I poked my head into the room and my jaw dropped. Tacked up on the walls around me were scraps of paper covered in art. In a glance, I saw everything from carefully drawn birds from before the Fires to candid portraits of Kobra, Jet, and what looked like other Killjoys. Then my gaze snapped to Party himself. He sat at a desk across from a simple cot, staring at a list tacked up on a wall. There were three columns labeled in dark capital letters: MISSING, GHOSTED, and SAVED.

"I could have saved them," Party whispered, "all of them."

Under the MISSING column, countless names were penciled in careful script.

_Neon Tree, Killer Angel, Suicide Queen, Beyond Help_

There were at least 70 other Killjoy names that ran the length of the script. For each, one column over, there was a check under GHOSTED.

I scanned the long, stapled together paper and noticed the first couple of names.

_Doctor Death Defying, Show Pony, Motorbaby, Agent Cherri Cola_

Each of these names had a check under SAVED, except for the last, which had a check under both.

Farther down, above 'Neon Tree', I saw another familiar name.

_Panic! Attack_

There was a check under SAVED beside this name as well.

I turned to Party, who was now slouched over in his chair, face in his hands.

"And there were more in San Diego..."

"Shut up."

He looked up at me, his pained eyes shocked.

"What?"

"Are these people you knew?"

"Every Killjoy in the Zones who we've lost contact with."

I noticed a few names at the bottom had no accompanying checks. I guess no one knew what had happened to them yet.

"Any Killjoy that disappears is likely dead, you know. And it looks like you've saved at least four of the damned at some time or another."

He looked at the list again. "Yeah..."

"And how many Killjoys are you in contact with now?"

"Ummm...well there's the 30 known troops here in Zone 6, there's about 20 groups in Zone 5, and around 60 in Zone 4..."

"How many Killjoys per group?"

Party paused for a moment and shrugged helplessly.

"Like, anywhere from 3 to 10."

I goaded him on. "How many Zones are there?"

He snorted. "The zones are just counties of different states renamed by Better Living. They've taken over bits of every county here in California so that's 58 zones. We know that they've got control as far east as Colorado, so that's at least a hundred more Zones sprinkled in between…"

That's a lot of Zones.

"Party," I muttered, trying to hide my amazement, "you know of _thousands_ of Killjoys out there alive and well, and yet you torture yourself about this list of, what, 70 dead?"

He shook his head. "I could have saved seventy more lives though."

"It's not your fault. You weren't there to take a bullet for all of them, were you?"

"No."

"And you shouldn't be. You're they're leader, our leader, hell, my leader. Be strong."

I was disgusted at him. _The_ Party Poison, in the flesh, was more of a moody, depressing teenager than a vibrant leader.

"Wait."

If looks could kill, his forehead would have been smoking by now.

"I've been trying to ask you about that thing, where you called me Gerard. Well?"

I raised my eyebrows. I still had no idea what he was talking about, and frankly, I wanted to crush his hopeful smile. How dare he change subjects on me.

"Grow a pair and _then_ we'll talk some more."

_Soul Demon POV_

I laughed with the Killjoys for a couple more minutes after Party and Sin left. Once they'd learned my story, they'd accepted me as one of their own, it seemed.

"Alright, everybody," Doctor Death Defying boomed as the conversation began to die down, "it's getting late and we need to get up early to pick raid teams. Get to bed, all of you."

"Yes mother," Jet grumbled and the chorus of laughs started again.

The Doctor shook his head. "And you're supposed to be the quiet one," he muttered and slapped him gently on the back. "Now go, all of you."

Everyone stood up and filed out of the diner and into the back hall of bedrooms, while I stayed behind, leaning against the back wall. The Doctor clucked his tongue when he noticed I hadn't listened to him.

"You should be going too, Soul Demon. Panic! would be happy to share a room with you and Gilded Sin."

I shook my head slowly. "I didn't stay here to get told off by some old fart. I've got questions about this place."

He raised his eyebrows. "I thought you liked it here. You seem to fit in quite well, despite the way we all met."

"Don't get me wrong Doc, you're a great guy, in fact they're all great," I jabbed I finger towards the hall, "but I don't think everyone's being honest with each other here."

He frowned, his desert-hardened brow wrinkling. "What do you mean Soul Demon?"

I laughed hollowly. How could he not see?

"I believe you know what I'm talking about. You're Steve, Righ?"

He froze when he heard the name, so I pressed on.

"You used to play in the band Mindless Self Indulgence. I am correct, aren't I?"

"We don't speak of the past here," he answered in a measured tone.

"You're dodging my question, Steve."

"Don't call me Steve. That was a long time ago."

"Bite me. Steve."

He stared at me darkly. "You're pushing the limit here. Take one more step in the wrong direction and you may not be welcome here."

I shook my head. "It's not your identity that concerns me, frankly. I never even liked MSI. It's just the fact that..." I trailed off into silence.

He looked at me thoughtfully. The anger had disappeared from the crippled man's face and was replaced by curiosity.

"Yes..."

I took a deep breath. "Party Poison and his lot are clearly not in their forties."

"Don't you mean late thirties, Miss Know-It-All?" He was clearly smirking.

"You know what I mean," I hissed back, "you clearly show your age, no offense-"

"None taken."

"The Fabulous Killjoys look about as old as us." I gestured towards myself and pointed again to the hall. "I'm 20, and I should be half their age."

The Doctor's answer was quick and firm.

"That's enough speculation for tonight, Soul Demon."

"Those boys in there aren't Gerard, Frank, Ray, and Mikey are they? How long are you going to hide this from us? We'll fight for you, but we need to understand our leaders. We need to trust-"

"Enough," snapped Doctor Death Defying, "go get some sleep, Soul Demon."  
>How could he brush me off so easily? I was fuming as I stormed out of the diner.<p>

"_At least the Fabulous Killjoys aren't bitter old men like you_," I muttered under my breath.

That was when I saw a light at the end of the hall and heard Gilded Sin telling off Party Poison from the doorway.

"_Grow a pair and_ then_ we'll talk some more."_

I approached the source of the sound only to be nearly trampled by Sin, who looked she could take out a wall right now. I thought quick and remembered what the Doctor had said about sleeping in Panic! Attack's room.

"Panic!'s room is three down on the right," I told her, "You can choose your cot."

She was so shook up all she could manage was a hissed 'thanks' before storming into our new room.

As I flopped down onto an empty cot, I noticed the dozing form of the quiet Panic! Attack, curled up under her jacket which she used as a blanket. She looked so peaceful. Lucky bitch.

As I inspected Gilded Sin, I noticed she had a dark look similar to what I likely had been giving to Doctor Death Defying. She noticed my staring and asked what was wrong. Who was she to talk, though? She seemed pretty pissed at Party back there.

"There's something wrong here," I muttered anyway, but then shook my head. "Good night, Killjoy. Don't let the Dracs bite."

We both laughed and she was out like a light. I, on the other hand, was only pretending to sleep. Did I mention that, along with all of my character flaws, I'm also an insomniac?

_Doctor Death Defying POV_

I heard what Soul Demon said as she stormed away. Bitter old man, was I? Did bitter old men hold together resistance movements, and teach the young how to fight to win this losing war?

_Yes_, I realized, _yes, sometimes they do_.

It was quite sad how many secrets this little band had to keep from each other. But if everyone found out what had happened to the original Fabulous Killjoys, and who these Killjoys really were, everyone would loose faith. Right? Because if your leaders aren't who you think they are, you give up. And this world couldn't afford for any of us to stop fighting.

_Gilded Sin POV_

"Alright," Party said, clasping his hands together, "when the sun comes up, we're going to send out raid teams. With the new bikes we've brought in recently, we can split into two units if need be. So, who wants to stay behind?"

Everybody was up. Next to Party Poison stood Kobra Kid, holding a poker face as his brother spoke. Tainted Edge was glued to my side, and everyone else was sleepily listening to our leaders from the comfort of some diner booths.

Nobody was volunteering to stay behind.

"Fine," said Party, "then I guess Jet, Kobra, Ghoul, and I will be one team, and Soul Demon, Tainted Edge, Panic!, and Gilded Sin can be another. Four and four." He grinned proudly at his deduction, while avoiding eye contact with me. Clearly he hadn't forgotten last night. Neither had I.

"No," cut in Soul Demon, "I barely know these three, and you expect me to fight with these amateurs? Pshh. No. Way. José."

Kobra raised an eyebrow, while not betraying any emotion.

"Then what is your suggestion, eh? And why should we trust you?"

Jet Star shook his head. "We need someone neutral to decide teams. Doctor Death Defying isn't up yet, per usual."

"Gilded Sin, how about you?"

"Erm…"

I hadn't been expecting Jet's question.

"I think Demon is right."

I heard Party curse, and noticed Soul Demon smirk, but pressed on.

"You guys are more experienced raiders. We need two team leaders per unit. Two Fabulous Killjoys and two regular. Seem like a deal?"

Fun Ghoul grinned madly, teeth gleaming rather like a vampire. But a friendly vampire. Ugh, that makes no sense outside of my head, does it?

"I like that idea. I call leading Gilded Sin's team!"

At this, Edge stiffened. "I'm going with her too."

Hands raised, Ghoul backed away in mock fear. "Sheesh, not intruding on anything, am I?"

I kicked Edge in the shins.

"Nope, you're not." I grinned perhaps a little too widely while Fun Ghoul nodded slowly.

"Ok good."

Party Poison cleared his throat a bit.

"Kobra and I will be leading the other raid team."

Kobra looked confused. "We are?"

"We _are_."

He shrugged. "Whatever. I guess you're with Ghoul, Jet. We'll be leading Soul Demon and Panic! then. Cool, let's go get ready."

Everyone shuffled off to their respective rooms. As Tainted Edge passed me, he hissed in my ear.

"What was that for?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't need protecting. Lay off."

He grumbled as I walked into my room with Soul Demon and Panic! Attack and began searching for my raygun and bandana. It's show time, baby.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well hello there, long time no see! With the recent course of events, I will try to be updating more regularly. After all, I do want to finish this story (not to mention finish *writing* it in the first place...I'm almost at the half-way mark, plot-wise). Also, to clarify a previous comment: Agent Cherri Cola is the person Gerard (or, in this universe, Party Poison) shot in the SING video, who was a Killjoy double agent and friend of his. I believe in real-real life, he is a member of MSI, but his name slips my mind. (Jimmy Urine, I think).**

**Enjoy the words! :D**

_Gilded Sin POV_

Well, maybe it wasn't show time just yet. It turns out that Doctor Death Defying wanted us to wait a day...so we did.

When I went into the Killjoy's garage the next day to find my bike, Panic! was already there, underneath the trans-am tinkering with something. She slid out from underneath the all-too-famous trans-am and flickered a grin my way. Before I could smile back, she darted to the other side of the garage, coming back with a piece of plywood on wheels with a wrench, a welding torch, some nails, and duct tape. Panic! slid back underneath the car and I noticed sparks begin to fly from around where she was working.

"What're you doing, Panic!" I asked after pulling my bike from a makeshift rack on the wall. Two fully white bikes were sitting beside mine and Tainted Edge's colorful ones.

She yelled out from underneath the car.

"The front axle is beat to hell and is rusting out. Whatever the boys did last time they took this for a spin nearly took it out."

"They got killed."

She slid out to look at me quizzically.

"How'd they get out of that one?"

A prideful grin spread across my face.

"Edge and I reanimated them with Drac tech."

Tainted Edge strode into the garage and pulled out his bike as well. Panic! gave a vague nod and pulled herself back to her welding work.

Edge dragged his bike over to me and smiled.

"You ready for this?"

I shook my head no.

He frowned. "Why not?"

"I need to fill up the tank. I'm almost out of gas."

"Oh. So do I, actually."

At this point, Edge noticed Panic! for the first time.

"What's she doing?"

The sparks stopped flying for a moment, long enough for her to slide out from under the car again and explain what she was doing to Edge. It took a minute or two.

"Huh," muttered Edge, "when did she get talkative?"

I shrugged.

Jet Star jogged into the room and grabbed his bike much like Edge had a moment before.

"Gotta find Party quick, so we know where we're going," he told us as he left the garage, answering our unspoken question.

"Oh and hey, what's Panic! doing?"

She sighed and yelled out what she had already told both me and Tainted Edge. Jet answered with a 'huh' and left.

Right on cue, Fun Ghoul dashed into the garage.

"Hey guys." He grinned when he saw me, but didn't say anything otherwise. Probably because Edge was standing next to me, glaring at him. Ghoul flicked his gaze away from both of us, around the room, and…

"Hey Panic!, what're you doing to our ride?"

"Will you shut up! If I have to explain it one more time to one of you _idiots_-"

She slid out from under the car, only for her eyes to widen when she saw Ghoul. Embarrassed, she mumbled a breathless apology, but he stopped her.

"No it's alright. The guys are always asking me the same thing over and over and over…"

Panic! smiled weakly. "I know what you mean. I'm fixing the axle here, wanna take a look?"

Edge and I glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. Panic! must have noticed because she rushed into an explanation.

"Before I got here, Ghoul was the resident tech guy. But he's busy with missions usually, so I've taken over the garage recently."

Fun Ghoul smiled as he wriggled underneath the car, kicking aside Panic!'s makeshift trolley (I think that's what it's called).

"Stop smiling, freak," muttered Edge.

I slapped him and ignored the yelp, and listening instead to what Ghoul was rattling off.

"…welding's pretty sturdy. Better than I could have done, considering everything. Good job Panic! Attack."

She blushed furiously and sputtered out a thank you. Now that she was the center of attention, she couldn't hold herself together.

"Hey," called Jet Star from outside, "could Panic! bring the trans-am around? Party and Kobra are ready to go."

I frowned. "What about Soul Demon?"

"What about me?"

Soul Demon, with an obvious bedhead, ran out to where Jet was standing.

"Where do I go now?"

Jet pointed out of sight and she dashed off.

"VROOOOOM!"

Edge, Ghoul, and I jumped out of the way as Panic! sped the trans-am out of its resting place, following Soul Demon. Ghoul grabbed his bike from the rack and pulled down his mask.

"Where to?"

"The edge of the Zone," called Jet, "I'll lead you guys to the post Party chose."

"Is it an important one?" asked Edge.

Jet shrugged. "We've raided all the ones close by, and we've come up with nothing. Most of Zone 6's resources have likely been pooled here. We've got one tough firefight ahead of us."

"You're telling me," I muttered. I was used to taking on scouting parties, not prepared Drac units guarding supplies.

Tainted Edge straddled his bike and revved the engine impatiently. "Let's go, then."

_Soul Demon POV_

Party Poison, Kobra Kid, Panic! Attack, and I watched as the four bikes faded into the distance. Early morning haze made it seem like they melted into the road before they disappeared. Maybe it was just the heat. Or both. Either way, I silently wished them luck, considering Party had told us we were leaving later to make a plan of attack. Which they wouldn't know, apparently.

Party had been leaning against the diner's outside wall by some kind of twisted vending machine that was filled with rayguns. Kobra said that they'd stolen it from a Drac post as 'spoils of war'. I, personally, thought it was messed up to put weapons in a place that used to hold soda. At least put soda in there with them, or something.

Party Poison pulled a box out of his jacket pocket, which was crumpled cardboard and had a vaguely smiling BL/ind logo on its cover. He delicately pulled out a cigarette and put it tentatively between his lips. Next he pulled out a blue Bic lighter, probably one of Tainted Edge's, since that guy never seemed to run out of the things. He flicked the flame and lit the tobacco like it was some kind of delicate operation.

Party took a long drag of the smoke and ended up in a coughing fit. I looked away, pretending I hadn't seen. This guy obviously wasn't a hardcore smoker. Not that Gerard Way was supposed to be, but another inconsistency is another inconsistency.

Kobra stalked up and snatched the cigarette and lighter out of his 'brother's' hands.

"Soul Demon, catch."

I looked up with my best confused face and caught the plastic lighter as it was thrown at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kobra throw the box into the distance, despite Party's protesting yells. Cigarettes scattered as the cardboard flew away, like little torpedoes scattered on the sand.

Party Poison was obviously furious. "What the hell was that for, man! I can't take a smoke!"

I almost laughed outright. He was no smoker.

"No, Party you can't," Kobra shot back, "because you'll die of lung cancer before this war is over. You can't leave all of us alone! We've got a legacy to worry about here! If we don't keep ourselves alive, then we'll end up just like—"

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP."

All three of us slowly turned to face the trans-am, where Panic! Attack was leaning on the horn. She looked rather amused with the fighting. I could have kicked her, because things were just starting to get interesting. Then again, two 'brothers' bickering before they have to fight together…not so good.

"What's the plan, guys?" She was so soft-spoken that I could have sworn she had just turned down her internal volume.

Party sighed, exasperated, and shook his head.

"Use a different entrance than our first raid team starts to break through, and take whatever we can. And we gotta try and kill all the Dracs this round before they call in backup."

"Yeah," muttered Kobra Kid, "I don't wanna die again."

"Shaddup," Panic! sharply retorted, "we need to get going."

With that, she climbed into the back seat and tossed Party Poison the keys. Kobra Kid climbed into shotgun and Party took the driver's seat. At least I knew where I was sitting.

On the ride over, I fixed my hair in the overhead mirror. Everybody else was silent. I just wanted to listen to my long-dead iPod.

_Main Better Living Industries Facility, Zone 6_

Darkness.

All I see is darkness.

I can't move.

Click.

Light. Blinding light.

I shut my eyes against it, but I am otherwise immobile.

Who am I?

"Welcome back, C0918. We've been expecting you."

I am a number. But I shouldn't be.

I have a name. I know I do, but it slips my mind.

Something needs to trigger my memory.

The brightness clears and I see an Asian woman in a suit above me. She snaps her fingers. I can move now, and sit up. I can think more clearly, like my brain-switch has been turned on. I'm no longer trapped in the darkness or in my own head.

I yawn.

"Who am I?" I croak out, vocalizing my previous thought.

"A soldier for us. You were hired before there was a nuclear explosion over most of California."

California, it sounds familiar. Faint memories rise to the surface, not quite popping the bubble of memory loss.

"What year is it?"

"2019," she snaps, "Yes. It's California, 2019."

My life comes flooding back, in bright color. I used to be an artist, a singer.

I have a family, a wife, child, and brother.

I was recently killed as a soldier. I am a robot, my consciousness transferred via technology. I was drugged when I signed the contract.

"What's my name?" I try to keep an even tone.

"C0918," the woman repeats. "That's what we will call you."

"But don't I have another name?"

She thinks for a minute. "Yes. We likely won't use it here, though."

I shrug. "It's alright."

"Welcome back from the dead, then, Mr. Gerard Arthur Way."

She leads me out of a medical ward, where a bald man is getting out of a dark coffin similar to what I was once trapped in. I shiver.

"We will be taking you to the main building to get you your new ID. I guess I will call you by your given name until the system knows C0918 has returned."

She frowns as she says this. Her strides are hard to keep up with, and I almost jog to keep up with her.

"There's a van waiting outside for you. The other man in your ward has a separate escort due to his rank, although usually you would travel together."

The woman stops us mid-walk.

"Tell me, Mr. Way, do you remember anything? Your memory might have returned, and we would like to record if it has."

I shake my head and lie through my teeth.

"I don't remember a thing. I only know what you told me."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello there, all! Just updatin' the story, I have so much to share...so here's an extra long chapter, just for you all. Again, thanks to all my readers, editors, supporters, and whatnot; this could not be done without you. Please feel free to ask any questions you may have, point out errors, etc. and please review! Or just read it. **

**Fun fact (yes, I'm still going to do these once in a while): This first little mini-scene was probably one of my favorite things to write. It just seems so...plausible, I don't know. It was one of the first scenes I wrote in the entire story, and even though it was wayyyy ahead plot-wise, I couldn't resist. **

**Anyways, enjoy!**

_Soul Demon POV_

"She said come on, come on, kiss my battery! Come on, come on, I'll be your _android girl_. She said come on, come on, kiss my battery! Come on, come on and—"

"STOP SINGING!"

With another aggravated yell, I shoved Party away from the stereo and slammed my hand against the power button. They'd been playing the same three songs for the past hour or so, and I couldn't take it anymore.

The music finally stopped, and my heavy breathing slowed in the awkward silence.

"So," said Party Poison, slowly turning to face me, "what'd you do that for?"

This earned him a death glare from yours truly.

Panic! cleared her throat. "Maybe we should stop playing _The Mad Gear and Missile Kid_ for a while."

"Maybe," purred Kobra Kid. His poker face was as unreadable as ever.

There was another awkward silence while Party kept his eyes on the road and hands on the wheel. I savored the peace and quiet, and it washed over me comfortably.

For about 5 seconds.

I was glancing out of the window at the desert flying by, admiring the vivid colors shooting back from the strangely tinted sand. Suddenly, I saw Party's hand shoot to the power button.

"I drink juice while I'm killing 'cause it's—"

"GODDAMMIT PARTY!"

_Gilded Sin POV_

We had pulled our bikes up behind a boulder looming by one of the gates, hiding behind them while we inspected the tall chain-link fence surrounding the facility from afar. We chose not to climb up it for fear of being shot down during the long climb to the top and being sliced by the barbed wire, which coiled lazily on the barricade. With these hindrances, we'd be ghosted before we could sprint into the complex. While we watched and waited, two cars funneled out of the entrance with Drac-topped motorbike escorts.

"What do we do now?" hissed Edge, "we can't just storm in uninvited with our massive team."

"Definitely," agreed Ghoul.

He was clearly being sarcastic.

Jet cursed under his breath and shook his head. His fro didn't bounce as usual; it was obscured by an astronaut helmet and eye patch.

"If Cherri was still here, he could get us in easily."

I was confused by the comment. "Was he famous or something?"

Fun Ghoul shook his head. "'Agent' Cherri Cola was a Killjoy spy for the Better Living, but he _really_ was a—" he counted on his fingers for a moment, "—triple agent for us."

"Until they upped his pills," Jet muttered.

"He never came back after that," Ghoul finished, "But we know he's dead."

There was an awkward silence as both Killjoys gazed out into the distance, shoving away all-too-close memories. Edge and I must have been giving them blank looks, because when Jet glanced sheepishly back at us, he continued his explanation. Fun Ghoul began fidgeting with his raygun.

"He could just tell his name to Dracs, guards, _anybody_, and they'd let him by."

Ghoul chuckled a bit out of the blue. "Some people thought he would be a chick when they met him because of his girly codename—Cherri with an 'I'? I mean, _come on_—but they still let him get whatever he wanted."

Jet nodded. "There were some _real_ awkward moments because of that…"

Silence again. Ghoul and Jet seemed awfully bothered by talking about this Cherri Cola character; they couldn't bring themselves to meet our gaze and they both were shifting about uncomfortably.

"This is awkward," Edge grumbled, reading my thoughts.

I coughed a bit nervously, and both Killjoys jumped, the shorter sticking his tongue out at me playfully.

I giggled and Edge frowned, clearly annoyed at having my attention taken away.

"I'm going to go get a closer look at the gate," he said, nodding towards the standing wire, which glittered in the relentless desert sun.

Ghoul's forehead crinkled; he was obviously confused at his sudden change of plan.

"What's that gonna do? Get you shot? We can tell from here that it's nearly impossible to cross right now."

Tainted Edge sighed dramatically. "What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

"That we wait until it gets dark before we strike. Then we'll have a chance of getting in unseen."

Edge glared at the tiny Killjoy, who gazed back at him coolly, hands in his battered vest's pockets. It became clear that Ghoul wasn't going to crack, and Edge ran his hands through his shock of hair helplessly, his tattered gray jacket flapping in a breeze. He sighed again and looked at me hopefully.

"What do you think?"

I studied both my friend and Fun Ghoul. Ghoul didn't seem particularly cocky, but justified and confident, meeting my gaze with a knowing look. Edge was visibly desperate for my support, but I didn't want him dead because of it.

"I think Fun Ghoul is right, Edge," I managed, gripping my own hair exasperatedly, "We don't want to get ourselves killed too soon."

I watched his body deflate slightly, while Fun Ghoul nodded approvingly. When he met my eyes, Edge glared at me, obviously hurt. I looked away.

"But isn't that the point?" he spat bitterly. I gasped, and all three of us took a surprised step back. "Screw all of you."

With that, he stormed up to the fence, rattling it once, and began to climb it.

"_Edge, what the hell do you think you're doing!_" I yelled at him.

A split second later, raygun fire erupted from somewhere off to the left. I jumped a bit above the rock to see a small guard station by the gate. It had once been occupied by two Draculoids; however both had left their post in order to shoot at Tainted Edge. He was clinging desperately to the wire, attempting to contort his body to avoid some blasts.

I lost all sense of abandon, ignoring Fun Ghoul's shouted warning, and ran out from behind the rock. I dashed to where Edge clung to the fence, jumped up, and pulled him down by the ankle. The shining wire snapped back with a rattle as he fell hard onto the desert ground, but, in a rush of adrenaline, I effortlessly dragged his crumpled form back behind the boulder. Thankfully, Jet Star and Fun Ghoul had been given me cover fire, although the Dracs had avoided all shots and were quick to return the favor.

As soon as we were back in relative safety, I slapped Edge hard across the face.

"What were you thinking! You could have gotten killed!"

He attempted a glare, but it faltered as he glanced down quickly. I noticed some color begin to drain from his face, despite the red handprint appearing on one cheek.

"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly regretful and concerned, but he shook his head, attempting to brush me off. It was then that I noticed his arm pressing hard against his shirt and wrenched it away for a closer look.

As I suspected, he had been hit, a deep burn running across his stomach. I turned to the two Fabulous Killjoys.

"Do either of you have any bandages?"

Jet Star nodded, dropped his gun, and pulled Edge weakly protesting down into a sitting position. Meanwhile, I took up Jet's place in firing through the fence at the Dracs. I could hear Ghoul cursing, because for every shot that went through the fence close to the target, five bounced off of the metal, reflected off to another direction.

As suddenly as the fire had started, it stopped. Ghoul and I frowned at each other, equally confused by the Draculoid's ceasefire. Dracs never stop firing; they always fight to the end.

_"Hey, you two over there, come out from behind the rock so we can see you!"_

We all froze, even Jet, who was tying up Edge's last bandage.

"That doesn't sound like a Drac," Edge whispered breathlessly, but I shushed him.

_"We promise not to shoot if you surrender peacefully. Otherwise, you will be exterminated. You have thirty seconds."_

"What are we gonna do?" hissed Jet.

"They only know that there are two of us," mused Ghoul, "but that means two of us go die…"

Tainted Edge stood, faltering after a single step. "I'll go. I'm hurt."

"All the more reason for you to stay," returned Jet, "live to fight another day."

I looked at Fun Ghoul, who was fidgeting with his gun again. He couldn't seem to pay attention, and I probably could throw him to the Dracs if I wanted to without his noticing…

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I yelled unintelligibly and kicked Fun Ghoul between the legs. He grunted and crumpled like a rag doll with a look of surprise sewn on his face. Jet Star lunged at me, but I grabbed his shoulders, stopping his charge.

"Protect Edge," I whispered. Then I pushed Jet out of the way, dragging Ghoul by the collar out into the open. Jet Star was clearly seeing red, but he remained beside Edge, pressing the bandages against the leaking wound. I hoped that he had enough faith in me to let me save all of our lives.

"I've got him guys!" I yelled to the Dracs standing behind the barrier, "_I've captured Fun Ghoul!_"

I could almost hear the grins on their faces as they spoke, striding towards me through gate as it swung silently open.

"Good job," one called.

"A 'fabulous' job, even," remarked the other.

"You traitor," Ghoul choked out, "I thought I could trust you. _We're all dead now."_

Both Dracs pulled out their guns when they got within range. One was aimed at Ghoul, who was recovered enough to be cursing and struggling against my grasp, and the other was steadily pointed towards…me. I didn't let my fear show through my eyes.

"Gentlemen, could you please lower your weapons? I'm doing you all a favor here." I yanked on Ghoul's hair and nearly lifted him off the ground. He yelped and began shouting expletives more loudly.

The Draculoids shook their heads, slowly and in sync, and one spoke. "You are simply a traitorous Killjoy. No matter your actions, you must be exterminated."

Fun Ghoul shivered. I caught his eye in attempt to console him. I hadn't thought that they were liars either. They had sounded different during the short firefight.

Ghoul spit at me.

And missed.

I ignored my prisoner and tried to show my best evil grin to the Dracs, although it felt plastered on my face.

"I _really_ think you should put your rayguns down right now. I am Agent Cherri Cola, and I was sent on a mission to exterminate the Fabulous Killjoys. I have one in custody and I intend to turn him in for procedure to be carried out properly."

The Dracs glanced at each other, relaxed, and nodded. Both guns turned to face Fun Ghoul.

"Sorry, didn't think you were Cherri," one said, "Nice disguise. By the way there's no more need for this formal corporate talk out here in the Zones."

The Draculoid, a woman, twitched her head towards the building, expecting for me to take the hint and walk towards it.

I strode through the now-open gates, with a struggling Ghoul in tow, and glanced back to watch the entrance close behind me. It didn't.

"Why don't you close the gates?" I asked the other Drac.

"Fuck you," whispered Fun Ghoul. I gave him a fleeting glance and he winked. Glad to know he was quick to forgive and quick to catch on.

The Draculoid shrugged nonchalantly. "Nobody's out there." This one was clearly male.

I faked concern and frowned. "Really?"

The girl Drac chuckled.

"Nobody except for you and that one. You're the most interesting thing to come through here this month. The other Fabulous Killjoys are dead, anyway."

I almost tripped over my own feet, but instead steadied myself on Ghoul's head, much to his protest.

"How do you know?"

"They were killed at headquarters a day or two ago. The bodies were being brought back for study when the van was attacked and one body was stolen. Korse got killed and Hijoshina lost an arm, which they sewed back on. How do you _not_ know this stuff? Are you out of the loop?"

I shrugged. "When I go on these missions, I tend to get out of our signals' range, you know?" In the back of my head, I wondered why they thought only one body had been stolen. We'd stolen _all_ of the bodies, and had reanimated them. I guess Better Living Industries had a reputation to keep up or something…maybe they even had something to hide…

We were a couple of feet away from the door now. One Drac stopped to unlock it and the other faced me.

"And 'pill range' too? You seem pretty animated." Both Draculoids laughed, although it was a warmer laughter than the typical Drac's grating chuckle.

"Uh…no, of c-course not..." I stuttered, but that made them laugh even harder.

The door shot open and we all began walking into the sterile white hallway, tracking dust onto the tile.

"Most people don't take their pills out here either. It used to be a warzone, when there were more Killjoys. There's a history of us not getting checked on very much. As long as we follow orders, Corporate doesn't hang on our asses."

"I hope you all get shot in the face," muttered Ghoul unnecessarily.

I could almost feel the Dracs raise their eyebrows behind their masks. One jabbed an elbow towards Ghoul.

"Got some spunk in him, does he?"

I nodded vigorously, concealing a smile. "Hell, yes."

The other one slapped him on the back like an old friend and leaned over to face him, despite his awkward kneeling position.

"It's too bad, buddy. I think I'd like you if I didn't have to kill you."

Ghoul spit in the Drac's eye like he had tried to earlier at me, except this time he was dead-on. This earned him a surprised yelp from his target, and the Draculoid kneed him hard in the stomach. I let him crumple onto the floor, quietly debating whether I should pull out my gun and shoot these guys down. Meanwhile, the Drac poked Fun Ghoul with his foot as the Killjoy moaned and rolled over.

"Don't let him out of your sight. And blindfold him with his bandana."

"Yeah," I muttered. I pulled him up by his dusty green vest, albeit a bit more gently then intended, and whispered 'sorry' as I covered Ghoul's eyes.

"Why are you suddenly so rough on him?" I asked.

Both Dracs pulled off their masks once Fun Ghoul was blind.

"Because," the female Drac answered, "he might get away. It, sadly, is our job to kill these guys and rough 'em up."

Her hair, chestnut and wavy, fell to her shoulders once it was freed from the rubber mask. Her almond-shaped eyes glinted kindly. She was so much different than all the Dracs I'd seen dead. Blank stares plastered on blood-stained faces. Vague surprise was also a common feature on their 'death masks', as Edge and I called them. My thoughts began to drift back to my wounded friend, but I stopped myself.

_If I kill this chick now_, I thought,_ she'll probably collapse in pain and have a look of agony, sadness, or disbelief_. Disbelief is very different from surprise; I don't think the drugged-up Dracs that I'd killed believed in anything but what their earpieces told them. Both of these Draculoids had their earpieces hanging over their shoulder lazily and a human sparkle in their eyes.

The male had buzzed, peach-colored hair and piercing, dark eyes. His smile was genuine though, not the sadistic grin of a madman.

Or Party Poison.

Same thing, really.

I still hate that guy.

"Ahem."

"Mm?"

The girl Draculoid sighed. "I asked if you wanted Jarrod here to take your friend to our chief. She's in charge of this little base. Well?"

I glanced down at Ghoul. He had been attempting a look of slight amusement, but his faint quivering betrayed his obvious terror. Even with his eyes covered, he was still easily readable.

Despite my better judgment, I shrugged nonchalantly. "Take him. I'm done my job here."

Her eyes lit up. "Great!"

She glanced at 'Jarrod'. "Take him to her."

The dark-eyed Drac nodded once and pushed the blind Fun Ghoul in front of him, prodding him down to the end of the hall. Then he opened a door and pushed Ghoul in, slamming it behind him. I winced.

"So," said the girl Drac excitedly, "do you want to come to the break room with us? We have coffee and some cookies."

I looked back to the door at the end of the hall. Jarrod came back empty-handed. Ghoul didn't come running back, gun drawn. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach, but the thought of cookies made it grumble. Coffee, on the other hand, is liquid shit, in my opinion.

"Sure," I managed, and she led me to another unlabeled room.

"By the way, I'm M8743, and the name's Laura. Jarrod is C7930. Next week, I'm getting promoted to C status too. I can't wait!"

"Mhm. Great." I didn't even bother trying to understand her or show excitement. Besides, I might have just sent Fun Ghoul to his death for the sake of some extra supplies. The best way to describe how I felt at the moment…*facepalm*…


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello all! So hey, I _thought_ it would be a great idea to start posting more often during summer vacation. But guess what people do doing summer vacation? Yeah, _go_ on vacation. Needless to say, I wrote when I could, but I feel bad for being all "I'll post more often" and then dropping off the face of the earth. Let's see if I can actually follow through. **

**Here's another long chapter for your reading pleasure, read, review, ask questions, critique, whatever, I posted it for you guys. Fair thee well in your future endeavours and enjoy!**

**(Fun fact: This was originally going to be the only fight scene and big finale, with a cliff-hanger ending. Yeah, it didn't really suit the story, after I kind of had a great idea for a new subplot soon to come. This definitely ending up being something I'm in for the long haul...but it's turning out fantastic, so what do I have to lose? Anyway, I'll let Ghoul take it from here.)**

_Fun Ghoul POV_

I was pushed into the room still blindfolded with my bandana. For a moment or two, I stumbled around aimlessly, but I eventually walked into an obstacle: some kind of surface. Tentatively, I paused to untie the knotted, makeshift blindfold.

I blinked to clear my returning sight and took in my surroundings. It was a blank white room with a simple, cold metal table, two matching chairs, and a thin laptop. There was a female Drac already occupying one chair, typing madly on the computer. She glanced up and motioned for me to sit in the empty seat. I continued to stand.

Abruptly, she slapped the screen down, staring me down through rubber slits.

"Not sitting, are you? Too bad, really."

There was a short ping from the computer. She pulled it back open, scanned the screen, and shut it again.

"You're in line to exterminate, then. What's your name, Killjoy?"

There was no use in not telling her.

"Fun Ghoul."

"Ah yes, you're very well known in these parts. Would you mind telling me your _real _name?"

I frowned. "Fun Ghoul _is_ my real name."

The Drac shook her head. She seemed frustrated, uptight, and just plain overworked. In spite of myself, I felt kind of bad for her.

"Listen kid, both you and I know that your name isn't Fun Ghoul. You were given another one at birth, and you may have even been given a code number. Since you're a Killjoy, I highly doubt it."

"I don't understand."

"Your name is as much Fun Ghoul as mine is C0917. We both were given other names by our parents, although the company I work for hates to admit it. They don't like having lists of hard-to-keep-track-of things. Only occasionally do they use our real names to get under our skin, but they prefer the numbers. That way it's easier to tally the dead and the living. Killjoys aren't really much different are they? They use special codenames to keep track of each other. The only difference is the level of creativity."

I stood in shock, mouth probably hanging wide open. Out of all this time encountering Draculoids, never once had I seen one with so much logic.

"Are you on pills?" I stammered. It didn't hurt to ask since I was dead anyway.

The Drac sighed. "Fine then. Just tell me your _last_ name."

I stood my ground. "Then take off your mask."

We silently faced off, a mental battle in an empty room.

"Promise?"

"Killjoys don't break promises."

I could almost feel the grin underneath the latex.

"I wish that was company policy," the Drac muttered. She grabbed the vampire mask by its synthetic hair and yanked. Long black locks tumbled out from underneath their prison. Her dark eyes were lined with heavy black makeup. A faint smile played across her lips, but she held a poker face, much like her husband would. I nearly gagged when I realized who it was.

"Dear God…is that _really you_?"

She maintained her steady gaze. "Last name?"

"Iero," I sputtered, "it's Iero."

Pure relief crossed her face as soon as I answered. Grinning, she leapt out of her seat to hug me tightly. Meanwhile, I returned the embrace with equal ferocity because I knew exactly who this Drac was. I had known her for most of my life.

The Draculoid hugging me was none other than Alicia Way, wife to Mikey Way, the original Kobra Kid.

"You haven't aged a bit, honey," she muttered to herself. She ended the hug and pushed me out to face her.

"Fun Ghoul, honey, I need you to do me a favor."

I stood dumbfounded and speechless, barely managing the quick nod I gave her. Even though she was petite, my eyes were about on level with her shoulder.

"Go to the room directly to your left once we're done in here. Pack up as much stuff as you can carry and get the hell out. Take care of Kobra, you hear?"

It seemed like she was listing her final wishes, that she wanted me to just save myself. However, Jet, Party, Kobra, and I had been searching too long for our kin: people like her who had been taken by Better Living.

"What do you want me to do?" I whispered, confused.

A hollow grin played across her lips.

"I want you to shoot me, honey. Kill me, please."

_Soul Demon POV_

When the compound came into view, Kobra Kid turned off the music. The chatter in the car stopped suddenly; our game faces were on.

Party pulled a yellow facemask out of his pocket and slid it on. The bright blue dots painted on it made his eyes seem all the darker. His face grew stony as the distant buildings took on more defined shapes.

Kobra put on his helmet and slid down the visor. _GOOD LUCK_ was painted onto the sun shield, which was practically screaming the sarcastic statement. I briefly wondered how he could see through the text.

Beside me, Panic! Attack slid on a bright blue fedora with a little red feather sticking out of the hatband. Then she rummaged through her pockets, eventually coming up with a mask similar in shape to Party's. Hers was a gently glowing green, and it clung to her face when she pressed it onto her skin. When she looked up at me and smiled, I noticed that something in the mask had changed her eyes; she looked blind, her pupils turned a solid white.

I didn't have any kind of cool costume to wear, so I just slid the black bandana from the top of my head over my mouth.

"Classy," I heard Kobra say, slightly muffled by his helmet. I made a face at him and was rewarded by a faint chuckle, although this was made blatantly awkward by the silence and the circumstances.

In the meantime, Party was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He stared into the distance, squinting at some bobbing shape near our destination.

"What the hell," he muttered and pushed the gas pedal all the way down. Panic! and I were thrown back hard against our seats (Because we weren't wearing our seatbelts. We're so bad.) Everyone but Party, who was busy driving, pulled out their raygun, ready to fire.

As the scene came into view, I noticed that the shape was really two figures, one with a green bandana and another with an astronaut's helmet.

"That's Jet and Edge!" I yelled over the roar of the engine, "They're waving at us!"

Kobra flipped up his visor and frowned. "Not good. Something must have gone wrong. Hit the gas, Party."

"I'm trying," grunted Party, "we're already over…" he checked the speedometer, "150 miles an hour."

In spite of herself, Panic! grinned. "I love this car," she whispered quietly. Only she and I heard it, and we smiled at each other.

Jet Star was jumping up and down wildly while Edge was yelling something that we couldn't understand. In order to stop us from running over our friends, Party Poison wrenched the wheel to the right, sending Panic! and I tumbling into each other again. We all clambered out of the car, whose tires were still smoking, and ran over to the pair.

"They're both gone!" panted Tainted Edge, obviously drained from shouting, stress, or both.

"Sin pretended to be Agent Cherri Cola and went to 'turn in'"—air quotes— "Fun Ghoul."

"Dammit!"

I yelped when Party slammed his fist onto the trans-am's hood. He was clearly on a short fuse today.

"She's such an idiot! Ghoul could get killed, or worse! We've already died once; we don't need to die again!"

I was beginning to get a little sick of this guy. He had temper tantrums whenever he didn't get what he wanted, and he had a tendency to ignore the fact that not all of us knew what was happening (like, for instance, who is this 'Cherri' character?). On top of all that, he was instantly assuming that Gilded Sin, who wasn't here to defend herself, was a complete moron. In my opinion, she didn't seem like the idiotic type; this beating down on her just wasn't right.

"Hey!" I shouted back, "she's on our side and now they're _both_ in trouble, not just your 'boyfriend' Fun Ghoul!"

Party whipped around to face me after the boyfriend remark. His glare bored holes into my skin, but I kept going.

"And did you even _think_ to tell them, or anyone, the plan? _Is there even a plan!_"

Pure rage was as clear as day on Party Poison's face. All the anger that had been directed at Better Living was now coming my way.

"Don't even get me started on _you_," he growled menacingly.

I scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean! HUH!"

He was practically screaming now. "You're the one who shows up out of _nowhere_ and almost shoots Kobra so you can have some supplies! He's like a brother to me, all of these guys are!"

He threw his arms up in frustration and faced the desert.

"The girls here are the ones who are crazy!" he yelled at no one in particular.

I noticed that Panic! had caught wind of the comment by the anger flashing across her eyes.

"Don't you even get me started, _Party Poison_!" She practically spit out his name.

"You're the one who bangs up this car every single time you go out on a mission! You raid Drac storage places full of crap and don't bother to bring back any spare parts! Not even anything to make them with! Do you realize how hard you make my life!"

"We're more concerned about _living to eat_ another day!" Party shot back, "We need food more than stupid fucking car parts!"

"Oh, it's not all _food_. You're always grabbing new clothes, magazines, instruments, all kinds of extra _shit_ that you want to stack up in the diner! At least get some shampoo while you're at it! You guys all _smell_ like _shit_, and you never shower!"

Panic! was clearly losing it. I'd never heard her curse, yell, or even speak loudly for that matter.

Party, however, was not done with his rant.

"Why are you even _siding_ with these guys! We saved you're fucking life, and this is how you repay us?"

"Oh, so now I have some kind of blood debt to you?" she spit back, "Do I have to die for you guys so that you're all satisfied? _WHAT KIND OF SADISTIC BASTARD ARE YOU, PARTY, HUH! OR ARE YOU MASOCHISTIC, LETTING SIN AND GHOUL OUT TO DRY?_"

"_SHUT UP!_"

We all looked at Kobra Kid, who stood glaring at all of us.

"Jet has something to say."

So we all faced the voice of reason, who took a ragged breath before he began.

"I told Gilded Sin about Cherri, and how he had access to these places. So Sin went in with Ghoul as a 'prisoner' while she posed as him, and the guards bought it. They left the gates _and_ the door open on their way in."

Party Poison was still fuming and twitching.

"_But what about Ghoul,_" he hissed.

"She didn't disarm him," Jet answered evenly, "and he had his raygun hidden. Sin just hit him around a bit for show. He'll be fine, and she's armed too. Plus, she has the element of surprise, since they think she's on their side. Personally, I think Sin made a brilliant spur-of-the-moment decision, since we were all about to get gunned down where we were hiding. If she hadn't done that, all four of us would be dead."

Tainted Edge nodded. "I've known her for a long time, and she's got the best gut instinct I've ever seen. Her choices always pay off in the end, plus, she's the best shot I know."

"Oh really," sneered Party, "like when?"

"_Party_," whispered Kobra Kid warily, but Party ignored him.

Tainted Edge raised an eyebrow. "How about when we stole the bikes of dead Draculoids? Or when we began keeping the guns of ghosted Dracs as spares in case of a firefight? Or her idea to only kill small groups of lower-level Dracs rather than invading facilities like this with numbers like ours?"

Party rolled back on his heels and leaned against the trans-am.

"Not impressed at all," he mused.

"I'm not done; how about saving you guys?"

Kobra seemed intrigued. "I thought you guys were just passing by and knew what was going on."

Edge shook his head. "We only _generally_ knew what was going on. We'd just ghosted a group of cleanup Dracs when we saw you guys getting gunned down in some office building. Gilded Sin made me stay there with her, kill the Dracs cleaning up the scene, and follow your corpses out into the desert with your car. I wanted to leave you for dead, but she wouldn't budge."

Tainted Edge walked over to Party, beginning to direct this speech at him.

"When she saw you go down, she starting bawling her eyes out, right in front of those glass windows. She was screaming for you to run, but you had to save that girl, didn't you?"

Party Poison looked at Edge for a minute and nodded slowly. "We need her. For reasons of our own." Kobra and Jet shifted uncomfortably.

"What reasons?" I piped up.

"Not fucking helping," Edge snapped at me, and went back to Party.

"That girl escaped with some people in a van, and you escaped death because of Sin. If Panic! owes you a blood debt, then all four of you owe one to Gilded Sin too. And if you're not the type for unrequitable debt, I suggest saving her simply because it's the right thing to do. What has she ever done to you?"

Party shook his head. "None of your business."

Edge sighed. "If you're not gonna tell me, then you're gonna have to fight with me to save her." He held out a hand for a shake. After a moment's hesitation, Party Poison took it.

"Not to be a party-pooper, guys," said Jet, "but if we don't move soon, we're going to be noticed. They've both been inside for almost 10 minutes already."

"Move the trans-am behind the rocks," barked Party, instantly regaining control, "we're going in."

Kobra pulled the Firebird out of sight, and we all began walking towards the compound, down two and ready to fight.


End file.
